


I’m The Same As I Was (When I Was Six Years Old) (JIM HOPPER)

by RockWithItWriting



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: AIDS mention, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-17 14:25:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18100307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockWithItWriting/pseuds/RockWithItWriting
Summary: eleven sees more than you or jim give her credit for.





	I’m The Same As I Was (When I Was Six Years Old) (JIM HOPPER)

The cabin was cold, but you didn’t mind. It meant a lot to you that Jim gave such a secret part of his life to you and you’d do nothing to waste that. Which included loving El just as much as you loved her pseudo-father. You’d make her breakfast in the mornings and then Jim would stop by to fix her lunch. He’d pick you up on his way home and you’d have dinner with her at night.

If you closed your eyes and squinted really hard, you could almost believe you were a family.

But you weren’t.

And you couldn’t be.

It was 1984 and things like that - like the police chief being gay and harboring a little girl out in some cabin in the woods - they didn’t happen. Besides, if word got out you’d lose your job and Jim would be run out of the town. You’re not even sure if your best friend, Joyce, would accept you.

So you kept it a secret. You persevered. Hell, you didn’t even let El know that you loved Jim and he loved you, and she called you both Dad. You’d kiss in the car before he ever made in within eyesight of the cabin, but away from the road, and you’d maybe hold hands after El fell asleep in front of the television, but you couldn’t risk it.

You loved Jim, yes, and you wanted to spend your life with him, but it just… Wasn’t feasible. You didn’t live in California where being gay was more and more protected, or Australia where it was decriminalized. Besides, AIDS was… Well, an ever-present anxiety in the back of your mind - and surely Jim’s too. Not like you had other lovers but… Someone had once described it as the gay plague. You’d had some hope after Gerry Studds came out the year before you and Jim began seeing each other but then the other teachers at the elementary school began talking in the teacher’s lounge.

You knew, of course, long before you’d ever fallen for Jim, that a life outside of the closet was not one that you’d achieve. But you were content with what you had because you had Jim, and he had you. And you both had El.

Again, if you squinted your eyes you could almost pretend you were a family. El, apparently, thought that too. One day, while you were cooking her eggs and the sun was just rising over the horizon, filtering through the trees, she asked you a question. “Dad,” She had said, looking up at you, “How come you never hold hands when I’m around?” The egg almost burnt because you were scared stiff, wide eyes focused on the spatula dripping grease onto the old, archaic stove in the cabin. You robotically moved them off of the heat, sliding them to a plate for the girl. She was either too observant or you were too transparent.

“I don’t know what you mean, El.” You ruffled her hair - it had gotten so long! - and moved to get dressed for your day in the back room of the cabin. You thought that it would be game over for the conversation but she spoke through a bite of still-too-hot eggs.

“I see you guys sometimes, when you think I’m not looking or I’m asleep. You hold hands and you look at eachother like the people on TV do.” You straightened your tie and gulped, hands shaking. You felt guilty that she watched so much TV - she was a kid, she should be at school or playing with friends - but you also cursed the TV. El had every right to be confused. “It looks like you’re afraid to love each other.”

Her words punched the breath out of your chest, leaving you leaning against the door frame as she eats. El, for as much as she didn’t know about the world, made up for it in sheer perceptiveness. She was too old for her physical age, something your mother would have called an old soul. “I don’t think you have to worry too much about that, El. Jim and I aren’t in love.” You kiss her forehead and the look in her eyes tell you that she doesn’t really believe you. You leave her there, eating her food, and set out for your job at the elementary school.

You’d have to talk to Jim about what she said in the car on the way home, your stomach twisting at the thought.


End file.
